


Le Café Féerique

by NandaWrites



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista!Matthew, Friends to Lovers, Human AU, Literature Student!James, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious fools are oblivious, Pining, Theatre Student!Matthew, Tom Chris and Cordy are in here too but with small roles so I didn't want to tag, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NandaWrites/pseuds/NandaWrites
Summary: When the new coffee shop opened next to his university, James expected to find a nice place to have coffee or tea and read his books when he was not in class. He had expected a quiet and calm place where he could relax.He hadn’t expected Matthew.





	Le Café Féerique

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic was created for one of my supporters on Ko-Fi as thank you for the donation. If you'd like an exclusive fic too, check out the details on [my tumblr](https://nandawrites.tumblr.com/post/179829711837/hello-lovelies-i-have-recently-found-myself-in-a)!

James was tapping his fingers anxiously against his thigh as he looked over at the size of the line in front of him. When the small coffee shop had opened up just a block away from the University a few days ago he had thought it would be the perfect solution: a quick way to get coffee every morning without having to go out of his way, being late or having to subject himself to the awful mud that passed as coffee on the campus’ cafeteria. It was simple: order, get a coffee, cross the street. Done, clean and simple.

He hadn’t counted on the attendant being one of the chattiest, most talkative people to ever be allowed behind a counter in London or, possibly, the whole world.

He had been waiting for 15 minutes already. _15 minutes_! Which was inexcusable and downright insulting considering there had only been 5 people in line when he got in. He looked at his phone, getting even more anxious and annoyed when he saw there was only 5 minutes until his first lecture of the day. His plan of calmly enjoying a coffee as he read a few more pages of his book before class was now thoroughly ruined.

The pace of his fingers picked up to an angry staccato while he glared roughly at the direction of the attendant behind the other people in line, until he finally sent away another customer and at last there was only a couple in front of him. He supposed he could turn around and leave, but now it was a matter of principle. He had come in for a coffee and he would get out of there with a coffee, if it was the last thing he did.

It was possible his sister had a point when she said he could be more stubborn than a pack of mules over the silliest things. It was very possible he didn’t care. Besides, if after all this he was left without a coffee, it would just make this morning even worse than it already was.

 _Finally_ , the couple went away and he took the final step to the front of the line, looking up from his phone and straight into pure sunshine.

Wait, what?

The barista had bright blond hair, styled and coiffed away from his face in one of those hairdos that had always striked James as being unnecessarily complicated and slightly foolish, but that in him complimented his thin, delicate features and his kind, dark green eyes. What was most remarkable about him, though, was his smile: warm and pure and genuine. It sent a fuzzy feeling down to James’ stomach and he had to lower his head again, slightly embarrassed and dazed. A sign by the side of the register read “Today your barista is: very happy to meet you!” with a series of drawings on the side and a list of recommended items from the menu under it, James focused on it.

“Good morning! How are you?”

Goodness, even his voice was nice and melodious, and, unlike other grumpy attendants that just asked out of protocol, he seemed to be genuinely interested. Now James could understand how people just kept being roped into long chats and telling him life stories at that hour in the morning. Thinking of that, though, made him remember he was late and frustrated and was supposed to be mad at the barista, so he just replied with a grumpy “Fine.”  
Undeterred, the barista continued:

“That’s great! I’m Matthew, what can I do for you today?”

“Just a black coffee, please, two sugars. To go.” Annoyed or not, he would not disappoint his parents’ upbringing by being rude to a service employee.

“Can I interest you in one of our scones? Or maybe a muffin? They are fresh from the oven.”

“No, thank you.”

“That will be a dollar! Special opening sale, tell your friends! Are you a student from the university?”

“Yes.” He was good at engaging people into conversation, James had to admit, it was a quality he envied because he didn’t possess it himself. Perhaps another day when he hadn’t been in such a bad mood he would have found it endearing, but for now he had no patience for it. He added as he passed him the dollar: “And I’m late, so if you’d please…”

“Oh, of course! I apologize for the wait, I’ll get that right out for you. Can I get your name, please?”

“James.”

He watched the attendant leave the register and prepare his coffee himself. It was a very small shop, so it made sense it was this kind of place. It was what had attracted James to it during the weeks he had passed in front of the shop, waiting for it to open: the small, cozy atmosphere. A calm place where he would be able to come to read and study with a coffee or tea. Too bad his first experience had been so bad and now he wouldn’t be coming back, just yet another frustration to add to that morning’s list. Again, it was a matter of principle.

“Here you go, James. Thank you for coming, hope to see you again!”

There was a drawing of a star next to his name on the cup, a cute attendant with a beaming smile looking at him, and when he tried the coffee to see if it was as he had asked it the taste was divine, but still James thanked him for the coffee and turned around, promising himself he would never come back.

 

He broke that promise less than a week later; but, in his defense, it was the rain’s fault.

What had been a light drizzle the moment he had stepped out from the university’s entrance, determined to soldier through it until his apartment a few blocks away, somehow had turned into heavy pouring and thundering in a matter of seconds. He had barely crossed one block and he couldn’t see a thing either to continue or to come back. The wind knocked over some boxes at the front of a store nearly on top of him and he decided it was far too dangerous to stay out. Having stopped just a few steps away from the coffee shop, he hurried to it and walked inside, the bell over the door chiming when he got in.

“Welcome! Oh, hullo, James, great to see you again! Oh, my goodness, you are soaked! Poor thing!”

It took James a while to answer, his mind getting whiplash from so many things to process at once. For one, he hadn’t expected to see the same barista again. It had been early morning last time he had come and now it was mid-afternoon, so he had assumed there would have been a change of shift. Secondly, he had definitely not been expecting to be not only recognized but addressed by name and it made him feel good in a way he couldn’t explain. And third, it seemed obvious, but he had only now realized he was dripping water all over the entrance.

“I’m sorry, the rain caught me by surprise. Do you have a restroom or something where I could dry off?”

“Sure, right through that door on the side. I have some towels on the back too, I’ll get you one.”

“You don’t need to bothe-” James started, but he was already gone. The place was empty aside from himself, and with the rain he doubted anyone would be coming in anytime soon, so he tried not to feel like too much of a nuisance as he walked into the restroom, taking off his coat and taking the paper towels to dry himself as much as he could. After a few seconds, there was a knock on the door and an arm holding a fluffy towel poked in.

“Here you go. I brought you a change of clothes, too, if you’d like. They are mine, so they might be just a tad big, but it’s better than getting a cold, I think.”

James blushed for reasons he couldn’t identify. There was nothing to it, Matthew was just being extremely kind – more than many people would be in this situation – but the idea of dressing in his clothes was… something he couldn’t pin point. He took the towel and clothes offered and opened the door to look at Matthew properly.

“I’m, uh, thank you. That is, that is very kind, I- I mean, you shouldn’t have- I mean, this is- Uh… I mean, I mean… Thank you.”

Oh, great. He hadn’t stammered this badly or felt this awkward in a social interaction since he had been in high school. But still all Matthew did was smile at him, again bright and warm, and if James hadn’t been blushing before he definitely was now as his heart skipped a bit.

“Don’t worry, Jamie. Call me if you need anything else.”

It took an embarrassingly long time after he was gone for James to calm his heart down, and even longer to realise he had called him Jamie. He usually loathed the nickname, but somehow now it didn’t sound so bad.

 

When he came out from the restroom, the shop was still empty, save from Matthew, who was peeking out one of the windows with a grimace on his face. James noticed the trail of water he had left on the floor was gone.

“I, hm, is there somewhere where I can leave these?” He gestured with his soaked clothes when Matthew turned around.

“Sure, I will get you a bag. It doesn’t seem like the rain will let up any time soon, so can I offer you something while you wait? A coffee? Sandwich? Pastry? Take your pick.”

He walked back behind the counter and James followed him to look at the menu more thoroughly now. The shop had a small, but very beautiful selection of pastries and sweets on display. The menu also offered some sandwiches and soups as well as the different hot and cold beverages. The sign by the register now read: “Today your barista is: souping wet!” and under it it advertised the soups from the menu. James chuckled at it.

“I think I’ll have a raspberry scone and a black tea, please. Two sugars again.”

“Coming right up! So, you are a student at the university, huh? What are you studying, if you don’t mind me asking? I didn’t get a chance to, last time.”

Dammit, the last time.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that! I was in a hurry and I think, I was, a bit rude. I’m really sorry.”

“Nothing of the sort! I know how it is, it’s okay. What class did you have?”

“Modern literature. I am studying English literature, I, hm, I like books quite a lot.” And he was the emperor of obvious, too, oh Lord.

“Me too! _With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy_?” He quoted, full of passion, and James was once again a bit awestruck.

“That’s Oscar Wilde, isn’t it?”

“Indeed!” Matthew seemed pleased as he handed James his tea and scones and gestured him to sit in a stool by the counter. “A genius if there ever was one, it was a tragedy what happened to him. No one should be condemned for loving. And we were deprived of more of his plays.”

James nodded. He wasn’t such a big fan of Wilde, but he agreed with Matthew’s sentiment. But then, again, he thought that any decent person would.

“I’m not such a big fan of plays, but he was indeed a great writer. I prefer classical literature.”

“Hmm, yes, that does seem to fit you very well. I am a big fan of plays, as it should be, since it’s my dream to star in one someday.”

“Really?”

“Indeed! I am a student at the university too. Dramatic arts. Night classes, of course. I go after my shift ends.”

James nodded and suddenly many pieces seemed to fit in place: the grace with which Matthew moved, his smooth voice, how great at chatting and telling stories he seemed to be, that aura around him that seemed to draw everyone in. Suddenly he could see him very clearly in a stage, the lead actor in many plays, charming and moving everyone with a flicker of smile or an anguished monologue. And he really… really had a face that would go well on a stage or, or something. 

It also explained something he had been noticing for a while now: while Matthew was still very pleasant and warm, that excess of energy and perkiness he had showed at the start seemed to be gone and he was much more relaxed now. He supposed that was a bit of an act he put on in order to charm the customers, and felt rather pleased he was feeling comfortable enough around him to drop it. All the bad impression he had had of Matthew the first time was gone and he would really like to get to know him better and be his… friend, of course.

“Isn’t that a bit of a tight schedule? Working and studying? Or do you usually come off earlier and today you are covering for someone?”

“Oh… Oh, no. It’s only me, there’s no one else.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” Matthew laughed, seeming a bit embarrassed for some reason, and then explained. “I actually, hm, this place is mine. It’s my shop.”

“What, really?!” James was shocked to say the least, Matthew didn’t seem that much older than him or that he would have that much money. “How old are you?”

“23, but I’m a first year. I actually used to study somewhere else before. Business, to follow my mother’s career. I wanted to please her, I really did, but just before I finished the course I caved and told them I wanted to try being a true actor. They were… surprisingly supportive. But it meant I had to move, because I wanted to study here since their dramatic arts program is very good. And I wanted to be independent from them, you know? My mother asked me how I would get by and I said I’d just work at a café somewhere so they decided to just… Get me my own. I actually live upstairs, that’s where I got the clothes from.”

He laughed again, seeing more embarrassed than ever, but actually James could relate very well.

“I have always wanted to study literature. My parents both are authors, they have a publisher, I grew up with books. I don’t know if I will ever be able to be half as good as them, but… If nothing else I can teach. They were thrilled when I said I wanted to study here, but it’s rather far from home too, so they just… Bought me an apartment, a couple of blocks from here, with a library big enough to fit my room twice.” He shrugged. He always avoided talking about his family too much, even more so to strangers, but Matthew made it surprisingly easy, specially when he seemed to relax after James’ story.

“Parents, right? What shall we do with them? I am sure you are going to be an amazing author, Jamie.”

“And I am sure you are going to be the lead of a West End production soon. That, well, it does seem to fit you very well.”

Matthew chuckled at having his words thrown back at him and James smiled. For a while, they looked at each other, before Matthew pulled back and motioned at the still untouched food in front of James.

“Well, I won’t distract you from your food any longer. Go ahead, eat while it’s hot. It’s the house specialty.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.” James was slightly disappointed they had to stop their talk, but he supposed they could always continue after he ate. The rain was much calmer now, but still present enough he could justify staying a bit longer, specially since he had finished his homework for tomorrow’s classes at the library before stepping out of campus. 

He took a sip of his tea cup – another star near his name, that was now spelled “Jamie” – and then took a bite of his scone. The sound that came out of his mouth as he chewed was lewd enough to probably be in a trashy American porn. Now he got why it was the house’s specialty.

“Oh, wow. Oh wow, this is delicious.”

“Thank you! I’m very glad you liked it.” Matthew seemed flustered again, but pleasantly, and it hit on James that he had just said he was the only one there, and that the pastries were all freshly baked…

“Wait, did you make this?”

“I did! How do you think I know it’s the house specialty?” Matthew winked at him and James dropped his head on the counter, defeated. He was handsome, kind, cute, friendly, an actor, could run his own business, liked books, and he could bake and who knew what else! James was so far out of his league it was laughable.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

“No, I reckon there isn’t.”

James threw a napkin at him and Matthew laughed, defending himself from the projectile and throwing it back. His eyes were sparkling back at James and it made his heart constrict painfully. 

He opened his mouth, not even knowing what he would ask, when suddenly the chime of the door startled both of them. The rain had suddenly stopped and a group of girls from the university was coming in carrying bags and umbrellas. For a moment, it seemed that Matthew’s expression was as mournful as his, but then he was opening one of his big smiles at them and going back to the register, the part of the perky barista back in place.

“Hullo, ladies, what can I do for you to make this chilly relentless day any more enjoyable?”

As much as James would enjoy staying there and watching Matthew work, in the hopes of getting to talk to him again after the girls left, he knew he had already overstayed his welcome. And he did have things he had to do himself. He ate the rest of his scone and got up, carrying his cup. 

“Going so soon, Jamie?”

“Yes, I, uh, have an essay to finish for next week. Thank you for the tea and the towel and… everything,” he trailed off, embarrassed to admit in front of others he was wearing Matthew’s clothes. He was trying not to think about that too much himself now either. Definitely wasn’t thinking about how nice they smelled and wondering if it was soap or Matthew’s cologne, nope. “I… bye.”

“Bye! Thank you for coming, hope to see you again soon!”

James waved and left in a rush, but his thoughts kept filled with Matthew all the way to his house, even after he had showered and changed back to his own clothes and was trying to work on his essay. After two hours he had no essay, but a multitude of poems about warmth and sunlight and smiles and he put his head down on his desk with a defeated groan. He could no longer deny, even to himself, that he had developed a major crush on the barista.

 

A new routine was established on James’ life after that. Every morning, he would get out of his apartment a little earlier and stop at the café for a coffee or tea or something to eat before going to his classes. If he was lucky, the place wouldn’t be too full and he would get to chat with Matthew for a while, trading stories about their classes, the books they had been reading or their lives. Matthew would always sneak him a sweet with his order with a conniving wink, even if James hadn’t asked for one, and he would always sign his name with a heart on the side that made James flustered. If the other was busy, he would read his book or review his homework or simply enjoy the atmosphere of the place as he watched the people coming and going and Matthew working.

It was incredible, really. No matter who the customer was, Matthew always managed to rope them into a conversation, charming even the grumpiest or most disinterested of people into a smile. It was extremely rare that anyone ever caused trouble or was rude to him, but when they did Matthew knew how to put them in their place without losing the composure, even if he lost the client.

He always said it didn’t matter, he didn’t need those kinds of people in his shop, and James admired this another, strong and resilient, side of him, too. It wasn’t like they would even be missed. Day after day, over the few weeks James had been going there, the shop seemed to be getting more and more popular, the line getting bigger, the tables fuller, word spreading around campus. Matthew seemed to be a bit starstruck over it all, but mostly happy, and it filled James with an odd sense of pride and happiness to see him do well and be liked.

Of course, it had its downsides too. Less time for James to actually talk to him or even see him was one. But the worst was probably, most definitely, his classmates finding out about the shop. It was the hot new sensation among the literature and humanities students, how couldn’t it be? The two-story building was one of the old ones, that carried the feel of a London long past, and the small renovations and decorations Matthew had gotten done made the place feel like mixture between a fairy tale house and an aesthetic dem from the 19th century. It was the perfect place for all the bookworms around.

But it meant that now James was surrounded with talks about Matthew at all times. As if his own stray thoughts weren’t bad enough, now he had to hear a lot of them thrown around him out loud with a casualty that both embarrassed and woke inside him a jealousy he couldn’t justify. Comments about how beautiful Matthew was, how nice he was, how gentle he was, people wondering if he had a girlfriend, people wondering if he had a boyfriend, people wondering if he was gay at all, a group of girls passed by his seat discussing loudly if he was a good kisser and how would it be like to kiss him and James had to put his head between his arms to hide his red face as he tried urgently not to picture it himself or snap at the girls for talking about it so crassly. Someone that knew someone from the night drama course kept swearing he was single, but was extremely popular with the girls there, too.

James watched his already slim chances plummet even deeper into the ground.

Not even among his own family and friends he was safe. Every Friday, when their schedules aligned, he had lunch with his sister Lucie, and his cousins Thomas and Christopher. His sister was also following on their parents’ footsteps and was in the first year of the Literature course, Thomas was close, studying Languages and cultural studies, and Christopher was studying Chemistry. Recently, Lucie’s friend Cordelia had also been joining them for lunch and it was nice. Usually. But today she opened the conversation with:

“Have you guys heard of that fairy café a couple of blocks away?”

“Fairy Café?” Christopher asked.

“It’s called The Green Carnation,” James defended it on reflex, annoyed when people didn’t use the right name - which he thought was very clever, - but then he froze when 4 heads turned towards him.

“Have you been there before, James?” Lucie asked him.

“No! I just… I just heard people commenting.” He replied, flustered. He shouldn’t be lying, but his visits to the café had become a treasured private thing and he panicked when it was brought up to his face so suddenly. His sister gave him a weird look.

“So, yes, it’s called The Green Carnation, but people have been calling it “Fairy Café”, because it looks like something out of a Fairy Tale book. And because the food and drinks are “so delicious they will charm you forever and you will never escape”, according to the girls in our class. And apparently the barista that works there is super nice too,” Cordelia explained.

“And gorgeous,” Lucie chimed in with a chuckle.

“Oh, I’ve heard some people in my class talking about it yesterday. Everyone was indeed charmed, seems like a very cool place,” Thomas commented, and Christopher nodded.

“Better than the cafeteria here, at any rate. I’ve taken a sample of the drinks to test them in the lab and I am positive that is _not_ coffee.”

James had been awfully quiet during their whole conversation, but as the talk drifted away into the familiar territory of trashing the cafeteria’s food, he started to relax. That is, until Lucie clapped her hands and suggested:

“Oh! What if we go there today after lunch? There should still be plenty of time until our next lectures.”

“Oh, great idea!” Cordelia perked up, and his cousins soon followed before once more all the heads were turned to him in expectation.

“Sure. That seems… great.”

The chatter picked back up excitedly around him and James downed his head, focusing back on his lunch. He felt, somehow, like he had just put a nail on his own coffin, and he ignored the weird looks his sister sent him all through lunch. 

 

The sight of the brick and light-yellow building had become as familiar to James over the past few weeks as that of his own apartment: the wood and glass doors, the elaborate calligraphy of the sign with the green flower on the side, the flowers all around the entrance and windows, the chime of the door. It all felt like home. But for the first time since that rainy day, approaching it filled him with dread as he walked towards it behind his friends.

It was stupid and silly, he knew it, but he couldn’t help but feel like his space was being invaded. Logically, he knew the café had dozens of other visitors every day, but James had always regarded them as background noise, part of the daily scenery of the shop. It made it that more real he was just one among its many other customers when he wasn’t going there alone. Besides, he knew he wouldn’t live down having kept the place to himself through all this time.

The bell chimed as they entered and took their place in the small line. At this time, with most people eating or still in class, there were only a couple of people around like in the early morning. Usually, it would be James’ perfect setting to be able to talk to Matthew, but today that wouldn’t be possible, and the small hope he had had Matthew would perhaps be too busy to comment on him vanished (not that it had ever happened before, but a desperate man could hope).

“Welcome! It’s very nice to have you. Oh, hullo Jamie!”

Matthew’s smile was as beautiful as ever and it eased James’ soul for a moment, before four pairs of startled eyes turned upon him again and James wished a hole would appear in the floor and swallow him.

“Do you two know each other?” Cordelia asked, at the same time Thomas said “Have you been here before?” and Lucie repeated, with an emphasis on the way Matthew had addressed him “ _Jamie_?”

He didn’t know what to say, but that had never been a problem for Matthew, even though what he said didn’t help James’ situation at all:

“But of course! Jamie has been my most faithful and special customer since the very beginning.”

“Has he now?” Lucie’s eyebrows were drawn.

“Indeed. Are you his friends?”

“At this moment, not particularly, as It seems that dear _Jamie_ here has been keeping this place a secret from us. I am his sister, Lucie, these are our cousins Christopher and Thomas, and my friend Cordelia. Enchanted to meet you.”

“A sister! Well, my lady, let me share in your discontentment, for it seems that same as my dear friend Jamie has never mentioned me to you, he has never spoken of a sister or cousins of any kind to me either. Though I should have guessed when I laid eyes on you that you are related as the resemblance is startling. May I offer you all a drink and scones as you tell me sordid tales of Jamie as pay back for his secrecy?”

“Oh, you have a wicked mind, my good sir, I like you. It will be my pleasure to tell you all the embarrassing childhood stories of my brother dearest. Who will help me?”

“I will!” Thomas agreed gleefully and so did the others.

“Luce! Guys!” He called in despair, but they ignored him. He looked over at Matthew and caught the barista staring back at him. He thought he saw a flash of real hurt hiding under his laughing face and he downed his hair in shame, never meaning to hurt him. The sign on the counter today read: “Today your barista is: having a brew-tiful day!” Usually the puns and messages always made James laugh, but today he barely saw it. He knew it was a bad idea to come, now everyone was mad at him.

“And how about you, sir? May I interest you in some coffee, black like you soul?”

He realized after a moment Matthew was talking to him and startled up. His friends had gone to a table to sit, and Matthew was looking at him with a smile on his face, but it was a completely wrong smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and it made James’ insides twist.

“Matthew, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie or hide things from you, or keep my visits here hidden from them, it was just-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, James, I get it. The fancy Herondale heir can’t be seen talking to a mere barista-slash-wannabe-actor, it’s okay.”

It was the use of his name that hurt the most and made James desperate enough to reach out and grab at Matthew’s hand where it rested over the counter.

“No! Matthew, no! It was nothing of the sort, much on the contrary, I… I enjoyed my visits here and to see you so much I, I wanted to selfishly keep it to myself for as long as possible, like a secret treasure. I liked that this was a place that I could come where I didn’t know anyone and no one knew me aside from you. I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem as though I thought of you as lesser in anyway.”

Matthew’s eyes were wide, his face a bit flushed. After a while, his fingers curled lightly around James’ and he smiled again, this time a real one.

“This is a coffee house, Jamie, it’s not exactly a secret.”

“And you aren’t exactly a mere barista, mister Fairchild heir.”

“Oh, don’t remind me! Very well, I will forgive you, but you’ll have to pay for your own scones today.”

“That seems fair.”

Matthew chuckled, and James realized he was still holding his hand and let it go quickly, face flushed, but Matthew only continued to smile as he made him his coffee and gave it to him. When James turned to go to the table with the others, Lucie was staring at him with a knowing look and it made him flush even more as he sat by her side.

“What is it?”

“You like him,” she said bluntly, a smile on her face, and James hid his blush behind his cup. There was no use denying it, Lucie knew everything, always.

“He likes you too, you know?”

This time James almost choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering as his sister calmly drank her own cup of tea and raised an eyebrow at him as if she didn’t understand the need for so much ruckus.

“What? Wha-what? Don’t be ridiculous, Lucie! Matthew doesn’t, he wouldn’t, he would never-He- I-”

“You what? It’s obvious, Jamie, clear as daylight. I am not the one being ridiculous here, you are, if you can’t see it.”

“He is my _friend_!”

“So? Mama and Jem were papa’s friends and now see where that lead.”

“This is different. He doesn’t see me like that. He, he likes girls, I have seen him before, the way he flirts with the girls that come in the shop. So I really… Have no chance.”

“I don’t know, Jamie…”

They were interrupted when the bell chimed again and a group of girls walked in, talking loudly until Matthew greeted them. The girls were a bit awestruck for a second, before practically falling over Matthew, commenting about how cute and beautiful the place was and trying to get his attention and the barista seemed to flourish under it, talking to them and flirting. At one point, he got the hand of one of the girls and kissed the back of it and James turned back at Lucie, not knowing if he should feel triumphant or devastated.

“See? I told you. Now drop this nonsense about him liking me, it’s not going to do me any good to have false hopes.”

Lucie didn’t say anything in response, but she kept herself a bit withdrawn the rest of the time they were there, eyebrows drawn together and face focused. When they were getting up to leave, she stood a bit behind and cleared her throat.

“You guys can go ahead and wait outside, I am going to the restroom.”

James furrowed his brow at her, but followed the others outside as they continued their conversation. When Lucie finally came out some minutes later, she had a very self-satisfied look on her face, the type that usually meant whatever she had done was going to get them into trouble.

“What did you do?”, he hissed to her as they started walking back to campus.

“Went to the bathroom, Jamie, don’t be indelicate. Oh, and Matthew asked me to tell you to come by tomorrow as soon as the shop opens, he wants you to try a new drink of his.”  
It wasn’t that unusual, Matthew was constantly asking him to try things that invariably turned out to be delicious, but the time requirement was odd.

“You did something. I know you did. What was it?”

“Jamie, don’t you have any trust in your little sister? Just do as he asked, I’m positive you’ll love what Matthew has planned.”

She smiled at him and it did nothing to reassure James at all. It just made him more nervous than ever.

Damned be meddling little sisters.

 

James’ anxiety over the whole situation was so great he barely slept that night. He spent most of it tossing and turning in his bed until finally falling asleep hours later and then almost sleeping through his alarm because of it. He rummaged through his clothes, not knowing what to wear, cursing at himself for not having anything nice and then admonishing himself for caring if he had something nice or not. He was just going to the coffee shop like always, there was no need to be nervous or do anything different. It was Lucie’s talk and looks from yesterday getting to him, that was all.

In the end, he left his apartment five minutes before the time he knew the shop opened and had to run all the way there to make sure he was on time. It was a short distance, but he was still out of breath and had to stop on the sidewalk in front of the shop to put his hands on his knees and catch his breath before walking to the door and knocking on it.

“Matthew?”, he called, and the faint sound of ‘it’s open’ answered him from inside.

The sight that greeted him was achingly familiar: Matthew behind the counter, setting things up. There didn’t seem to be anything different at the shop, and Matthew was simply whistling and working with the foam machine. 

“Good morning, Jamie! Sorry to make you get up so early, but this is important. I’ll have the drink ready in a second, so make yourself at home.”

“It’s no trouble at all, take your time.”

James let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Things were normal like always. There was really nothing out of the ordinary, he had just let Lucie and his own imagination get to him, that was all. 

He ignored the slightly disappointed feeling at the back of his heart and approached the counter, letting his eyes drift towards the already drawn on sign on top of it to see what witty or funny thing Matthew had written on it today.

He froze.

He read it again.

On top of the counter, with hearts drawn around it, the sign said: “Today your barista is: 1 – Bi as heck. 2 – Desperately single. For your drink today I recommend you: give me your number.”

His heart and breathing raced once more. His brain having trouble processing the words. It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be right, that couldn’t possibly mean what he thought it meant.

“Wha- What?”

Matthew was still preparing his drink – why was he calmly preparing a drink when James’ world was spinning out of control? – but he started talking:

“Your sister is quite the daredevil, did you know? She came to talk to me yesterday and she told me without preambles that if I hoped to gain your affections I’d have to be more direct because you weren’t good with subtlety, or with being the object of romantic intent. So this is me, being as direct as I can be.” He whipped out the finished drink and put it in the counter in front of James. It had a pattern of hearts and the words ‘be my valentine?’ drawn on it with cocoa powder. Matthew’s smile was brighter than the sun. “Will you go out with me, Jamie?”

James was lost on what to do, his heart hammering so hard he was sure it would burst out of his chest, his head spinning. He couldn’t feel his hands, or his face, or much of his body at all aside from his heart, and he was sure he was going to pass out.

“I, I- Do you really… Mean it? But I thought you- The girls…”

“Ah, yes, Lucie told me.” He patted at the sign. “I like girls, yes, but I like boys too. I am sorry if my behavior confused you. I tend to be naturally friendly and being charming is part as much of an actor as of a salesman. And it’s… easier to do so with girls, because I am always sure they will enjoy it and won’t take offense, but what I do on the counter is just for show. Besides, I spent weeks flirting with you and you didn’t seem interested, so I had just about given up myself, you know?”

“Me!? You were flirting with me?! When?!”

“Jamie! What did you think all the winking and offering you free foods and telling you how amazing I think you are and the hearts in your cups was? And I… Never talk to anyone for as long or as openly as I talk to you, I thought you would notice.” Matthew seemed embarrassed himself and James, looking back on all their interactions over the past couple of months with this new knowledge just about wanted to slap himself.

“I am… so sorry! I’m really not good with these things at all.”

“So it seems,” Matthew chuckled. “That’s why I was so surprised when Lucie came to talk to me. I had resigned myself to live with this doomed crush forever, but then, apparently… It’s not so doomed after all?”

The open hope and eagerness in Matthew’s voice, the small tremble of doubt, slammed into James more powerfully than a tidal wave, undoing all of his defenses and bursting his heart open so the words that he had always kept in flowed freely into the air.

“It’s not! Gosh, you say you don’t know how I couldn’t see you liked me, but how couldn’t you see all this time the opposite was also true? I have been infatuated by you since that first day when it was raining, by your personality and your smile and your… everything. I can’t stop thinking about you day and night. I’ve written poems about you. I told you yesterday, coming here was like my precious treasure, because I got to see you and talk to you and I didn’t want anyone I know to invade this bubble I had made. I- I like you, Matthew, I like you so much I don’t know what to do with myself, and if you really like me too it would be the happiest thing in my life.”

He reached his hand out to him and Matthew took it, entwining their fingers and holding him so tight, but so gently it made James gasp.

“I do. Goodness, Jamie, I do. I wait every day for the moment when I see you walk through the doors. You make me the happiest person in the world only by being here and when you go the thought of seeing you again the next day keeps me happy all day long. I like you so much, so, please, will you go out with me?”

How could Matthew still need to ask and sound so unsure after all that James had said? He gripped his hand tighter and pulled him in over the counter, swallowing his slightly surprised gasp into an eager kiss that seemed to tilt the world back to its axis, all things that had been wrong or skewed in their lives falling into their rightful places, now that they had each other.

“Yes,” James murmured against Matthew’s lips, “Absolutely yes, please, yes.”

Matthew chuckled against his lips, his free hand sliding over the back of James’ head and tangling into his hair to pull him even closer as they kissed and kissed, before the barista broke the kiss, his laugh and his smile a brand against James’ cheek.

“So you have written poems about me, have you?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Any chance you would allow me to see them?”

“Not a single one in heaven, earth or hell.”

“Meanie,” Matthew complained, but he was chuckling again, so James knew he didn’t mean it.

This time when the other pulled him in for a new kiss, James could hear the first drops of rain hitting the windows outside, once again closing them in in their little bubble for a little while longer. The kiss was slow and languid and satisfied and it tasted of coffee and scones and _Matthew_.

It tasted like all the things that James loved the most.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked it! Leave a shoutout if you caught the Herongraystairs reference. ;)
> 
> Check out my all Heronchild blog on Tumblr: [ heronchildlove.tumblr.com](https://heronchildlove.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Want a prompt for any other TSC characters or ship? Then leave it at [nandawrites.tumblr.com](nandawrites.tumblr.com)!


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